Cause There's Beauty in the Breakdown
by NeoNails
Summary: The root of the problem was that Felicity was really, truly terrible at trying to be something she wasn't. Which was what got them here.
1. Cause There's Beauty in the Breakdown

Wow. When you guys like something, you _really_ like it. I went to bed shortly after posting _Everybody Needs Somebody_, and by the time I woke up the next morning, I had 46 e-mails telling me how much you guys liked that silly fic. That's pretty freaking awesome, so I seriously thank you guys for that. I hope you'll like this new one almost as much!

This isn't super-important to you guys, but this will be my 99th fic on … which makes me think I should probably do something pretty epic to celebrate the big 100. I need to think about that one.

But just as a warning, this fic gets pretty angsty. And sappy. Yes. I am a sap sometimes. (It's really just because I like writing from Felicity's perspective.)

Again AU, because I can't imagine this happening in the course of the show, but if it did it wouldn't be for several more seasons. The title is also a reference to _Let Go_, by Frou Frou.

$4$

_You took the time to memorize me  
My fears, my hopes and dreams,  
I just like hangin' out with you all the time  
All those times when you didn't leave  
It's been occurring to me  
I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life_

- "Stay Stay Stay," by Taylor Swift

* * *

Even when they finally got together, Felicity never assumed they'd stop fighting.

That would be expecting too much of a change. To her, it'd be scarier if they stopped fighting completely because that had never been the nature of their relationship from the beginning. They were both hardheaded people, each with very different perspectives and little to no filter. Arguments are kind of like breathing for the two of them, especially when it comes to the job.

In the back of her head, she wondered if the mutual decision to have him move into her apartment weeks ago would spell the death of their relationship—if they were constantly bickering when they only interacted half the day, how could they possibly survive the whole 24 hours?—but she couldn't bother to say it out loud, and he had half his wardrobe in her closet, not to mention one of his uniforms… It seemed more practical in the end.

Surprisingly, there wasn't much of an uptick in fights, even after they made the living arrangements permanent. She supposed that had something to do with the fact that, prior to their decision, they were already spending basically the same amount of time together, plus or minus a few walk of shames.

Their fights didn't increase, but that didn't mean they decreased, either.

That was how she wound up alone, hugging her pillow on her side of the bed and cursing that stupid Ken doll of a vigilante. They had fought early in the morning, and she had still been pissed off enough that she had gone straight home instead of heading to HQ, like usual. Of course, she regretted that decision almost instantly, but she was too stubborn to get off her couch and go back.

She probably should have, because then she wouldn't be up half the night, tossing and turning in bed as her brain conjured up all sorts of horrible endings to her boyfriend. Because wasn't that just life? The one night you spite-skip superhero work is the one night your superhero boyfriend winds up dead.

Felicity frowned, clutching her pillow tighter as she tried to banish those thoughts from her head. It wasn't an easy task, because she had spent too much of her last few years worrying over that man. But Diggle was there, and so was Roy, so it wasn't as though he was all on his own, no matter what he might have thought in private.

It was less than a year, but she already hated going to bed without him. When she was alone that evil little voice in the back of her head taunted her, reminding her of all those things she managed to forget when she was in his presence. Things like his tenuous mortality, for one.

She rolled onto her side, keeping her eyes shut both to ignore his side of the bed and the hope that sleep would finally claim her. It was close to a month, but it still felt wrong to refer to it as their bed. Ridiculous as it sounded, she felt like she was breaking some unwritten rule, the computer nerd sleeping with the all-star jock. She had to remind herself that life was not a John Hughes movie, no matter how awesome that might have sounded.

There were too many moments where she had to pause and wonder how she got here, and she meant that in many different instances of the word. Here with him, here working in the HQ, here lying to her mother about living with a man before marrying him. With each additional here she felt less and less like the old, predictable Felicity and more like something else entirely. She sometimes wondered which version she liked more.

She knew that if she ever mentioned this to Oliver he would probably tell her something stupidly simple, like "I just like you," and she would wind up feeling all gooey inside instead of getting an answer out of him. He was tricky like that.

Felicity tossed over in bed once more, the lime green sheets getting tangled around her legs. Her chest felt too tight, and she knew it wouldn't lessen any until she saw him again. She had let too much of her life get wrapped up in his, and she now she worried that she would never be able to untangle herself completely without leaving something behind.

She relied too much on him, and it terrified the hell out of her. She was terrified for a number of reasons, but no more so than the fear that he would leave.

Sometimes it was the fear that he would die, sometimes it was the fear that he would break up with her, but it always ended with him gone and her alone.

Felicity sighed heavily and shoved her hair out of her face with short, poppy red nails. Desperately, she wondered if she could fall asleep faster if she moved over to his side of the bed and trick her brain into thinking the pillow that smelled like him was one in the same.

She had so much outward confidence, but inside she was so unsure. She knew where she excelled, but she also knew her limits, too. She had carved out a perfect world for herself with computers and code and chardonnay, and in a moment, all of that became not good enough.

The problem was, she didn't feel good enough for her new slice of life. She felt it every time she spoke to Moira Queen or overheard of her coworkers dishing gossip—gossip about _her_ life.

Because she knew she wasn't the only one thinking it.

On bad days—_really_ bad days—she could admit it to herself. She didn't belong here.

Laurel did.

Her fingers tightened around the pillow, because she couldn't stop the visceral reaction each time she admitted it. She couldn't stop the pain any more than she could stop thinking it.

No one was ever rude enough to say it to her face—largely because no one wanted to risk pissing him off—but she knew what they were thinking when they stared at her. She wasn't in his league. She wasn't even in his stratosphere.

But Laurel was. Laurel had been around before and after, and it seemed like no fling with his best friend would hinder a relationship as destined as theirs. Laurel was his one.

That logic had been why Felicity shot him down the first time he'd asked her out. He was really attracted to her, he was just waiting for his true damsel to become available again so he could sweep her off her feet and ride happily off into the sunset.

She had turned him down in the hopes of not getting her heart crushed when he inevitably ran back to Laurel. And that worked, at least for the rest of the week. And then she was in the middle of having another argument with about his knack for killing people and rather than fight more, he just yanked her towards him and kissed her like she was his last attempt at salvation.

She forgot about her logic pretty soon after that.

But even going on a full year, she still worried that she was being used as a placeholder. She was nothing compared to Laurel, her beauty as effortless as her do-gooder nature. On the other hand, it took Felicity a solid hour of whining and work to get her hair straightened and the do-gooder thing went out the window around freshmen year of high school when she sent Mr. Polasky a porn virus for attempting to give her a D in P.E. Felicity could never compete with heavenly Laurel Lance, and she could honestly say she never wanted to test it out.

No matter how many times she worried about it, though, she could never bear to say it aloud. In her mind, it was taboo. If she said it out loud, it might come true. It was backassward logic, but Felicity didn't know how to think of it any other way. She could handle getting her heart ripped out and stomped on—theoretically—but she could not stand the idea of admitting her fear and having to suffer when it came true. Call it an overly sensitive sense of pride.

"You still awake?"

She didn't hear him when he came in, but that wasn't anything new. Just because he now had a key didn't mean he always remembered to use it, and he had grown strangely attached to the window in her bedroom overlooking the fire escape.

Felicity was proud of herself for not reacting, at least physically. She was unbelievably relieved to know that he had come home in one piece—she assumed, because she was still facing the opposite wall and her eyes were shut—but that didn't mean she was going to roll over and act like everything was hunky-dory. He wasn't the only stubborn one in the relationship.

"So am I kicked to the couch or are you gonna let me stay here?" He kept his voice low and quiet, but he was the only sound in the room, save for the muffled white noise of the city through her closed window. "I'm gonna take you silence as a yes…"

She wanted to laugh at his pathetic sense of humor, but her pride got in the way before that could happen. She kept perfectly still, her breathing even, hoping he would either ignore her or she would finally drift off to sleep.

She could hear the familiar sounds of him stripping out of the uniform. Other nights she would be chattering away or helping him get undressed with a laugh, but something about tonight felt different beyond her stubborn streak of pride. Her stomach felt heavy, no doubt from all the worrying she had done in the last few hours.

The bed shifted under his heavy, comforting weight, and Felicity wanted nothing more than to roll over and snuggle into his broad chest but something held her back. She knew it was that mean little voice in the back of her head, but she couldn't get it to stop no matter wht.

Felicity knew he was capable of falling asleep the second his head hit the pillow—she had watched him do it on several occasions. She envied that talent, especially now when she was having so much trouble relaxing. She let out a tiny sign as she resigned herself to a sleepless night.

Ollie's arm snaked under her waist, and she barely had the time to open her eyes before he dragged her a foot across his bed until she was snug against his side. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his three-days' worth of whiskers brushing across her exposed skin and lighting up her whole right side with tingles.

"I know you," he murmured, the words vibrating against her skin pleasantly. "You can't sleep when I'm away."

Still not facing him, Felicity's lips parted to disagree, but no words came out.

"I know," he continued, unaware of her sudden loss of words. "Because the same thing happens to me every night you're away."

Her breath caught in her throat. Ollie didn't admit things like that, things that involved emotions. Sure, they were living together, but she always assumed that it was more for convenience and the fact that he was a grown adult still living with his mother and sister than anything else.

Truth be told, she never really discussed emotion with him. There was the occasional moment he showed up bleeding all over the HQ and she teared up a bit between the cursing and the bandages, but mostly she kept that to herself. Because she did know Ollie, almost as well as she knew herself. He had gotten so much better, but he was still damaged. Throwing needless emotions his way would just serve to freak him out. When they started this relationship, she resolved to be patient and let him take the first step. She refused to scare him off.

For Ollie to admit that he had trouble sleeping without her wasn't just new, it was an extremely huge step for him in their relationship. He was fairly affectionate behind closed doors, and she knew he did care for her, he just never made any verbal confirmations of that fact. He didn't want to admit he needed people.

As she rolled over to look him in the eye in the dark room, she felt her stomach knot further. While she had been waiting for Ollie to come to their relationship on his own terms, she had come to her own realization. She was deeply, irrevocably in love with this man, but she wasn't sure she would ever be able to tell him.

His nose nuzzled hers affectionately, and she could feel the familiar pull to let all her thoughts and feelings tumble out. She had been ignoring that pull for months, unable to risk what might happen if she scared him away.

This managed to trump any and all of her other insecurities, even Laurel. She couldn't tell him she loved him, not when admitting he couldn't sleep without her was already such a huge thing.

It took her a while to find her voice. "You never mentioned that before," she whispered, the pads of her fingers brushing his stubbled cheek affectionately.

He smiled. She loved it when he smiled. It didn't happen enough. "I barely ever slept before we were together. When you're not here, it's the same as going back to before."

Felicity's heart panged uncomfortably in her chest, but she ignored it in favor of stroking his skin and leaning up to press a gentle kiss on his lips. Even without the light, she could see a bruise starting to form across his cheekbone. "You could've told me earlier," she whispered, her eyes falling shut as he automatically deepened the kiss.

"M-hmm," he dissented, shaking his head a bit. Ollie shifted until she was pressed under him, and she relented because she always relented when presented with the opportunity to touch him. It was a weakness, but one she didn't mind much. He pulled back a little, laying short kisses on her mouth as he added, "Didn't want to worry you. You already worry too much about me."

She attempted to give them some distance so she could look him in the eye, but that mostly resulted in her burrowing her head further into the pillow. "I only worry because I care," she said. She very easily could have substituted _because I care_ for _because I love you_, but she wasn't going to tempt fate. "Just because I worry doesn't mean I don't want to hear when you miss me. I actually kind of like hearing that."

Ollie chuckled at her honesty and ducked his head down to kiss her bare throat, his fingers stroking her hips and sides. His touch was far too drugging in her opinion, so it took her a moment to process that he had responded. "Duly noted. I'll make sure to tell you when I miss you in the future. Expect a text around lunch."

It was so rare when he joked around, she always made it a point to really appreciate the humor. She pulled him back for another series of kisses, but before they could get anywhere fun a yawn overtook her, causing her to duck her face into his chin. Felicity flushed at her childish inability to stay awake past bedtime, but he didn't seem to mind too much. With another restrained chuckle, he kissed the side of her head affectionately and murmured, "You should probably get to sleep now. You do have work in the morning."

She grumbled good-naturedly but had no problem snuggling even further into his side. While she never regretted her late-night activities with Ollie, tonight she didn't mind skipping out so much. Her brain had gone so many ways—most of them not too pleasant—in the past twelve hours, she was a little concerned she might not be able to fully appreciate being with him… and that would be a damned shame.

And, truth be told, she really did need to get some solid hours of sleep before work in the morning… a fact which she illustrated by falling asleep in mere minutes, her face buried in the shoulder of her rather wonderful if overly complicated boyfriend.

All in all, not too bad of a night.


	2. It Gains the More It Gives

I wasn't originally intending to add more to this, but I had this idea, and I figured, rather than just starting something new I could provide this as a counterpoint to the previous chapter. I wrote this entirely in a notebook in between classes and rewatching episodes of _Justice League_ on Netflix. Because that's what I do during the weekend.

I've learned that I'm less comfortable with writing Ollie's perspective than Felicity's, but I think I made this work in my own special way. This is much fluffier, and also more ridiculous for a lot of different reasons.

$4$

_This morning I said we should talk about it  
_'_Cuz I read you should never leave a fight unresolved  
That's when you came in wearin' a football helmet  
And said, "Okay, let's talk."_

- "Stay Stay Stay," by Taylor Swift

* * *

Felicity was one of those people that excelled when she didn't try hard.

Oliver understood why; Felicity had spent a lifetime excelling at technology, a skill she understood with an effortless kind of clarity. So whenever she was put into a situation that she didn't understand perfectly, she stumbled, tried too hard, and wound up worse off than if she hadn't tried at all. For the life of him, though, he couldn't make himself stop her. She was just too amusing to watch.

He was fairly certain that made him a terrible boyfriend. It would be easier if she wasn't so… funny.

The root of the problem was that Felicity was really, truly terrible at trying to be something that she wasn't. Which was what got them here.

"Could you please come out of the bathroom now?" he asked again. He sounded like a cross between amused and frustrated, which was fairly true to what he was feeling. She had that baffling effect of making him honest.

"No!" she shouted through the door. Felicity, on the other hand, sounded panicked, and he wanted to go in there and talk to her, but she had given him explicit instructions not to move from his seat at the edge of the bed. "Just… give me a second!"

He had been sitting there patiently for the past twelve and a half minutes, which had been when he had walked through the door and she had shoved him toward the bed before barricading herself in the bathroom. But like most moments with Felicity, she kept him bemused enough that he didn't mind this next quirky moment of their lives together.

"Didn't you say that five minutes ago?" he asked, mostly rhetorically because he already knew the answer was yes. He had been keeping an eye on his watch.

Oliver could hear her grumbling on the other side of the door. "Shut up!" she griped. "I'm just… I need—shut up!"

He chuckled to himself, keeping quiet because he knew she wouldn't appreciate him laughing at her, even if that wasn't exactly his intention. He had long since learned that sometimes it was easier to let Felicity do her own thing than attempting to bully her into any particular direction. He didn't understand how, but she could be just as stubborn as him some days.

"Alright. I'm coming out."

Oliver wasn't sure what to expect. Realistically, he should have known better—he was a far cry from naïve when it came to these things—but he had a hard time predicting Felicity. She was unlike any woman he had ever met, let alone dated. He wasn't always so good at predicting her patterns.

And when she stepped out of the bathroom, he knew without a doubt that he had not been predicting this.

Oliver always recognized that Felicity was pretty, even prior to dating her. It was merely an observation. It was only when he got to know her better that he saw how truly gorgeous she was as a person. Granted, he knew he could still be shallow at times, but it he was much better off than how he'd been when he was an idiot college kid.

Felicity's face was already flushed, and he would have put money that its cause was from embarrassment. She was sans glasses and had done something different with her makeup, making it darker and smoky, which on made her eyes look even bigger and more like a deer caught in headlights. Her hair was also up, but in some kind of messy bun that was doubtlessly more complicated than it looked. But all of that was nothing in comparison to how she was dressed.

Oliver didn't fool himself into thinking he knew anything about women's lingerie. All he did know was that she was wearing something that utilized the verbs "short," "lacy," and "green." He wasn't sure what to say beyond that.

He was so surprised at her choice in wardrobe that he forgot to keep his expression neutral. His eyebrows were somewhere near his hairline, and it took him a moment to realize his mouth was slightly open. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to fix the problem before she noticed, not that there was ever any chance that she wouldn't.

"What?" she asked, her eyes somehow managing to grow larger. She took a couple steps towards him, wobbling uncertainly in her emerald green stilettos. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, recovering enough to give her a reassuring smile. "You look… beautiful."

Her brows furrowed, like she doubted his words, but she pasted on a nervous smile anyway. "Good," she muttered, not sounding much more confident than she looked. Clenching and unclenching her fists, she walked towards him again, which was actually something closer to a saunter with the way her hips swayed from side to side.

Felicity stared at him through half-lidded eyes, but the current of tension there undermined her purpose. "When I went out shopping, I saw this. I thought you might like it," she told him, the words teasing but the tone stilted.

His attempt at a bemused smile was intended to reassure her, but before that could have much of an effect, her stiletto caught on the carpeting. He barely heard her pathetic little "Eep!" before she tumbled.

"Son of a bitch." Oliver wasn't sure if he was meant to have heard her whispered curse, but he sure as shit wasn't going to ask her. Years of training had taught him to react to unexpected situations, but he hadn't been as fast as he thought so she wound up in a heap, half on his lap and half on the floor.

He chuckled. He knew she was going to be annoyed at him for that reaction but he just couldn't ignore the humor. "Well, that was unexpected."

Felicity lifted up her head from his knee, only instead of glaring at him she just looked hurt. "Yeah. Hilarious."

She picked herself up, shrugging off his assistance. "It's fine," she said. "No, I get it. I do. I- I just had an idea—"

Son of a bitch. That wasn't what he meant to do at all. "Felicity—" he began, standing up from the bed as she backed off.

"It's fine," she repeated, when it was clearly anything but. "Seriously. It didn't work out. I'm fine."

Oliver sighed, and let her back up another two steps before crossing the room and catching her by the waist. "Felicity, stop, wait," he murmured, ignoring her feeble attempts to push him away. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I never want to do that."

He heard her sniffle a little, but when she glared up at him there were no tears. "Right, which was why laughing was totally the right reaction," she replied sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. She balled up her fist and took a very lame attempt at a swing to his chest.

"I wasn't laughing at you," he corrected gently, smiling despite himself. He squeezed her waist and pulled her closer until she was pressed against his chest. "Not directly. I was laughing at the situation. At how unnecessary it all was."

Felicity's eyebrows arched, an impressively dangerous glint in her eyes. "How unnecessary… my _seducing _you was?" she clarified, in case he wanted to dig a bigger hole for himself.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Oliver shook his head. "No," he replied slowly, teasing her probably more than he should. "At how unnecessary it is that you think you _need_ to seduce me."

Her mouth fell open a little, and a blush spread across her cheeks and chest once more. He briefly considered letting her flounder for a while longer, but after everything she'd put herself through in the last half hour, he didn't have the heart. "I think at this point we're beyond you needing to prove something to me."

Felicity exhaled through her nose, pulling back a few inches when he leaned his head towards her. "I know. I just wanted to try something different… I'm tired of you always being the sexy one."

She sounded like a petulant child and he had to stifle another laugh. "I'm not even sure how to respond to that one," he admitted. "Other than you must've hit you head a lot harder than I thought if you think that's true."

Felicity pursed her lips, her fingers digging into the material of his shirt. "You just don't want to believe it's true."

Oliver laughed at her stubbornness, but before she could argue with him further, he leaned in and kissed her. She paused for maybe a moment and then gave in, back arching as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He had never been in a relationship for this long, not even with Laurel. There were some downsides to dating and living with a woman for so long, but the good far outweighed the bad, at least when it came to Felicity. She could be a challenge at times, but one he rather enjoyed figuring out. Especially this way.

It was easy to bend a little and catch her behind her knees. Despite what she claimed, she really wasn't that heavy, particularly for him. He never would have admitted this to her, but he got a messed up sense of pleasure out of the little yelp she let out every time he picked her up without warning.

Felicity recovered well, her legs winding around his waist in time for him to lower them onto the bed, having long since memorized the layout of the room. When they broke apart, she laughed for no particular reason, the sound so blissfully happy he had to grin back. She had that effect on him, and it was one of the many reasons why he was grateful that they were together. He doubted he could find anyone else that would tolerate him for this long.

She whimpered when he ran his hands up her bare sides, tugging on his bottom lip, and he repeated the motion until she moaned throatily. Her voice never ceased to do crazy things to his nerves, and he wondered if it was always going to be like that. He kind of hoped so.

He pulled back, not missing the needy little noise she made in response. Her hair was already half-falling out of the bun, and that satisfied flush across her face made that decidedly primal part of his brain swell with pride. Her eyes were half-lidded, dark and clouded over with lust.

"And you think you're not sexy," he muttered, dipping his head down for another heady kiss. Her mouth tensed, like she wanted to argue with him, but rather than do so, she melted, digging her fingers into his hair.

She broke away long enough to tell him, "Shuddup." Her legs tightened around his waist, and he had to grit his teeth until the desperation ebbed away.

"I love how clueless you are about what you do to me," he growled, nipping the pale, unmarked skin of her throat. Her short, vibrant nails dug into his shoulder and he had a feeling this was going to be one of those nights when he couldn't get enough of her.

His hand snaked behind her back, finding the hook and clasp easily. "Wait," she whispered, breaking their heavy kiss. "Wait, wait."

Felicity hadn't said the words loudly, but he still heard them. He pulled his head up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he studied her expression. "What? Is everything okay?"

Oddly enough, she looked just as confused at her outburst as he did. That lingering heat in her eyes didn't help him any. Something seemed to click for her as she asked quietly, "Did you say you loved that about me?"

Oliver hesitated. This felt like one of those trick questions past girlfriends would ask him, but with Felicity there never were any trick questions, so he answered honestly. "Yes."

Her eyes got real big, and for a second he worried that he had somehow managed to answer wrong. "Oh," she murmured, her face going red, for a different reason this time. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated. He really hoped she wasn't going to get mad at him, because he wasn't sure he was going to be able to let go of her.

Her lips curved into a tiny little smile, and she repeated for him, "Okay," and then pulled him down for another kiss. This time, there was no more stopping, not for several more hours.

Later on, after they had both cooled down, Felicity still wouldn't explain what had happened. All Oliver was sure of was that he'd evidently done something very, very good. And that was good enough for him.


End file.
